Okay, so you know that One Piece adventure story I was talking about in my profile? Well, here it is. This is only the prologue so it's kinda short. And just so you know, Kyra, the main character, WON'T be joining the Strawhat Crew. This will be on her adventures and what happens to her, hence the name. But she will encounter our favorite goofy pirates(because it IS a One Piece story) and I might do some of the arcs with them. Possibly some of my own, and maybe the Alabasta Arc. But also know that I prolly' won't update this until I update Haunted Isle, and updating takes quite a while for me. Why? Because I'm lazy. Oh so very lazy. And there might be romance in this story, and if there is(and I don't know if there will be) the romance will not rule the story, adventure/action will. Why? Because I suck at writing romance. My SasuNaru oneshot doesn't count because there's not really any romance in it, it's just two horny boys having fun! _ Aaaaanywho, I would like to thank kilnorcfor giving me this idea. So, tell me what you think of my new story ne?

Prologue

--1--

A girl, around the age of seven, ran across the bright green lawn chasing a large, black and orange butterfly. She was in the garden behind her house. The garden, or the 'playhouse' as her mother liked to call it, was really quite big. Lots of flower beds with tulips, roses, sunflowers, and any other flower you can think of dotted the three acre area. Vegetable plots came in abundance. Squashes, zucchini, broccoli, cauliflower, tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, and pumpkins were some of the foods that were grown in the Warai garden.

Her mother was kneeling next to a new flower bed she was working on. Seeds packages littered the ground around her, ranging from beautiful cosmos to homely sunflowers. She stood up, spotting her child straying from the clean path in to the 'forest.'

"Kyra honey! Please don't make yourself too dirty! You'll have to clean up again before you eat!" Yukina Warai called to her only child, Kyra Warai.

"I won't!" Came a voice so high there was no doubt it belonged to a child. Kyra turned her head, and once she was sure her mother wasn't looking, stuck her tongue out.

"I saw that!"

Kyra 'eeped' and quickly ran away, catching sight of the pesky little butterfly that wouldn't stay still long enough for her to grab it.

Yukina sighed, shaking her head. Kyra was a very rebellious girl at times. Still, at least she listened to her, unlike Mrs. Tomo's Davy, who did anything he wanted. But still, Yukina knew that Kyra would come back with ever part of her body covered in filth. The girl didn't know how notto get dirty. She would always say-whenever Yukina scolded her- that her mother had never been clear on how much dirt was 'too dirty.' Yukina sighed once more, a fond smile adorning her face. She decided to head inside to help her husband, Rai, make lunch. After the fire incident a few weeks ago-where he had managed to set boiling water on fire-Yukina didn't quite trust her husband enough to make something over the stove without burning the house down.

Kyra meanwhile, had spotted a nice looking pile of dirt and was currently trying to make snow angles. When she was satisfied, she carefully got up-to not disrupt her would-be-Michelangelo-work-and turned to admire the piece of art.

…. It looked like a cross between an orangutan and a mountain lion. Kyra pouted, gosh, it was ugly. Stomping her foot on the ground she seethed for a few minutes, before seeing another butterfly. Anger forgotten, she chased after the flying insect.

So distracted with her newfound interest that Kyra didn't notice how the shadows started to get longer and longer. How the sun sunk lower in to the sky. An hour passed. Two hours. Three hours. Three hours and thirty six minutes later, Kyra's tummy growled, wanting the meal it had unknowingly skipped.

Kyra grabbed her aching belly and decided that it was time to head home. As she walked to well-worn path, she appraised herself.

She was dirty, Kyra concluded, really, really dirty. But not enough to get mama mad. At least, she hoped not.

The large Victorian style house rose in to view and Kyra ran over to the patio, where her parents should be waiting for her with her specially made peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. The house itself was quiet, the shutters to all windows on the first floor closed.

Next to a piece of freshly turned soil, garden tools and seed packets lay strewn across the ground. Long forgotten.

Kyra reached the patio, and stopped. No food was laid out, not event the table cloth. And her parents weren't in sight.

"Mama? Papa?" She called, the gnaw in her stomach beginning to become unbearable to her.

No one answered.

"Mama? Are you here Papa?" Kyra slid open the glass door and peered in to the kitchen. She stepped through and closed the door behind her with a soft 'click.'

The smooth JIF peanut-butter jar sat on the counter, along with some smuckers grape jelly, wheat bread, and a butter knife. Water for the eggs of an egg salad boiled on the unattended stove. Kyra made a note to tell her mother the Papa had forgotten about the stove again. The refrigerator door was open, the cool air spilling in to the warm kitchen.

"Mama, where are you?" Kyra called, but once again, no voice came back with an answer.

She stepped in to the living room to see if her parents were there. After all, the last time Papa forgot about the stove he had been asleep on the couch. She glanced around the large room, where were Mama and Papa? Squinting because it was dark from the windows being closed, she spotted a dot of red on the white carpeting. Her eyes found a trail of said dots.

Curious-as her mother would never allow such a stain to occur-Kyra followed the stains to the right side of the living room, where all of the furniture was located. The black leather couch blocked any view of the fireplace which was in the all opposite the couch. The matching recliner sat in the corner turned toward the T.V. stand. A love seat was on the other side of the couch, slightly tilted to face the recliner.

Kyra stopped in the middle of the cluster of furniture, staring in shock at the body that lay face down on the carpet, permanently corrupting the white innocence of the carpet. Surrounding it was the red stain from before, except, this stain was a darker shade of red then the one by the kitchen. It looked like blood.

"PAPA!!" Kyra shouted, running over to the fallen man. "Papa, are you okay? There's a lot of red stuff around you!" She attempted to roll the body over, so Papa could breathe. She didn't want him to suffocate. Kyra managed to roll her father's body to face upwards.

The head stayed where it was, face down, on the carpet. She stared at the neck, clearly seeing the vertebrate were the head had been severed from the body. Fresh blood made the wound glisten in the semi-dark of the living room. And she noticed the smell. It had been there before, just not nearly as strong. In her hurry to get to her father, Kyra didn't realize the smell was coming from the corpse. Her nose wrinkled, and she felt bile beginning to make its way up her throat. But it didn't get far, as she let out a loud, sad wail.

Kyra sat there a moment, crying in despair. Papa, Papa was dead! A new bout of sobs wrecked the girls small frame. Suddenly, a hand was placed on her shoulder, making Kyra jump.

She turned, "Mama!"

But this man wasn't Mama. His face was covered by a black hood, belonging to the cloak he was wearing. But Kyra could make out a set of empty eyes, void of any emotion except for a deep, resounding sorrow. The figure was tall, taller than her father had been, and held a long, curved hunting knife in one hand. The knife had a golden handle, a smooth, sleek sliver blade, and blood ran down it, collecting at the sharp point, before spooling off in to a puddle forming at the man's feet.

Kyra's subconscious noticed these details, and tried to warn her, but she was too focused on the man's face to think about anything else.

"Have you seen my Mama?"

The man nodded.

Kyra smiled, hope burning in her chest that her mother hadn't suffered the same fate as her father. She smiled at the strange man, convinced he could help her, "Where is she? Can you take me to her?"

The man was shaking his head no, and Kyra frowned, "Why not?" She forgot all about a rule that her mother had drilled in to her brain:

Never talk to strangers.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. He spoke in a low voice, that sent shivers up Kyra's spine. Somehow, it reminded her of a graveyard belonging to the most evil people of all times. "You can't talk to your Mama right now. You see, I'm afraid she's a little….. Incapacitated at the moment." He grinned, showing small pointy teeth. A chunk of something white was stuck in between two of his front teeth.

"What's she doing?"

"Being dead." Out from behind his back, the man pulled Kyra's mother's head out, holding it by the long, silky brown hair that her mother loved.

She stared at the face staring blankly at her. The mouth was agape, the tongue lolling out. The skin was pasty, almost chalky looking. An eye with the spark a life snuffed out gazed at her. The other one was missing.

Kyra gasped, then looked up at the man, fear evident in her eyes. He laughed loudly. She ran past him to the front door and sprinted out to the street.

The stranger evidently thought Kyra would be too shocked to move, for he stood still for a moment, before giving chase to his new prey.

Kyra ran and ran. Tears still flowing freely from her red eyes. She hiccupped as she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She ran away from the stranger. Away from her parent's dead bodies. And away from the safe heaven where nothing bad could happen. Away from the death bed.

Only, the stranger never gave up chasing his prey.

Redhaired Shanks gazed about the newest island his ship was docked at.

He and his men had been trying to capture a rouge pirate. From details he heard at bars, the pirate hadn't belonged to any one crew, but spent most of his time with the Sludge Bombers. He went crazy after seeing his wife, brother, and children killed right before his eyes. Thus, the pirate, known as Slade became a psychopathic killer. At least, that was what the rumors were saying. You couldn't always trust them.

Shanks had heard that Slade was on this island and so he had sailed to the target spot. He hoped he could claim the high bounty on the rouge pirate's head, and perhaps stop another pointless murder.

"Ben!"

The first mate came to his captain, "Aye?"

Shanks grinned, "Let's go catch ourselves a monster ne?"

Ben grinned back, "Aye, aye Captain!"

"Oi! Captain, look!"

Shanks glanced at his crewmate, before following his outstretched hand to the docks to the right of them that led in to town. A young girl-six? Seven maybe?-running towards them. He jumped down off the side of the boat to greet her. But worry instantly clouded his features as saw the girl's terror filled face as she got closer.

Her eyes locked with his, and relief became apparent, "Please, you've got to help me!!" She ran at him, and clutched at his pant let, crying her eyes out.

"Captain?"

Shanks looked at his men, who were voicing the unsaid question: Would they continue the search for Slade, or help the obviously scared girl?

"Evidently, this little girl has been through something that has tramatized her. We can resume the hunt tomorrow. Or would you rather leave her alone?"

His crew cheered, making their opinion known. He knelt down on one knee so he could be eye level with her.

"Kid, what's your name?" He said quietly.

"Kyra." She sniffed.

"What happened to you? Do your parents know where you are?"

The image of her father's dead body and her mother's blank eyes staring at her flashed through her mind. She whimpered and clutched at his shirt. Shanks let didn't press the matter, figuring she would talk about it when she was ready. He put his only arm around her, and sat there in silence.

Kyra's sobs slowly died out, leaving her drained, but she broke the silence with a question, "C-Can you help Mama and Papa?"

"I'll try."

She looked up in to the stranger's eyes with hope filling her own. This stranger was nice. "Thank you." She whispered. A yawn escaped her, and all that happened in the day finally took its toll on her small body.

Shanks grinned, "Seems your ordeal tuckered you out eh? Well you can tell me what happened later. Now you should sleep."

Kyra nodded, feeling strength leaving her body. The stranger picked her up, holding her close to his chest. She could hear his heart beep. A slow, rhythmic thump that soon lulled her to sleep.

A sense of security washed over her tired frame for the first time since she stepped back in to her home not even five hours ago.